


Neither Here Nor There

by omphale23



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three weeks of visits, Benton was beginning to wish he and Steve had never met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neither Here Nor There

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [DS Holiday Party ficlet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/70569) by [omphale23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23). 



> [](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/profile)[**slidellra**](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/) is the best panic-reducing beta ever. She showed no fear when my porn insisted on developing a plot. Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/superpornsunday/profile)[**superpornsunday**](http://community.livejournal.com/superpornsunday/)

[The original Steve snippet.](http://community.livejournal.com/ds_flashfiction/504830.html)

***

After three weeks of visits, Benton was beginning to wish he and Steve had never met.

When he came back to the Consulate after a long day of chasing Chicago criminals through some highly unsavory alleys, Steve was spinning Benton's spare Stetson on the tip of one finger. He tossed it to the top of the nearest bookcase and winked. "Ben! You're back! So, how'd the whole truth and justice thing go today? You talk to Ray yet?"

Benton set his hat on the desk and began removing his uniform. The buttons on his tunic were due for polishing. Perhaps that was a job for tonight, as he had a rare evening alone. Well, so to speak. "No, I haven't, and no, I'm not going to. I don't understand why you won't just let this go."

Steve was sitting--well, hovering, really--behind the desk, tossing a pencil into the air and watching it bounce on the blotter. "Because I want what's best for you. Which would be sex with me, obviously, but if not that, then you should definitely be having sex with somebody."

Benton hung his tunic over a chair and began detaching his braces. "I don't believe that's necessary. Do you have somewhere else to be?" He leaned down to unlace his boots and set them aside. Standing back up, Benton watched Steve warily as he removed his uniform trousers and shook them out.

Steve leaned back and began throwing a series of writing implements with some force. A few of them stuck in the ceiling, but the majority returned to hit him on the head. "Well, I was hanging out with your dad in the closet--and, by the way, he hasn't changed a bit--but that got boring. So not really."

Pants folded carefully over the tunic--both would need to go to the dry cleaners in the morning--Benton stripped out of his undershirt and threw it in the hamper hidden in one of the file drawers. "You could try inhabiting your body for a few days."

"I could, but that's no fun. Eric's not expecting me back until ten."

"I've been told that Tibet is nice this time of year."

Steve stretched, exposing whipcord muscles that brought to mind someone else. He shook his head to clear it as Steve answered. "Yeah. But I was there this morning, and there's only so much chanting a guy can take. Enlightenment is really pretty tedious."

Benton sighed and reached into his closet for a shirt. He nodded to his father and turned back to face Steve. Who wasn't bothering to hide his interest in the proceedings. "Surely this isn't contributing to your search for a higher plane of existence."

"Maybe it is. I could be working on helping the less fortunate--that would be you--to find happiness. Through sex." Steve smirked. 'I kind of like the sound of that."

Benton returned to the file cabinet for a henley and clean socks. Perhaps Ray was correct when he argued that jumping into a pile of garbage was not an acceptable solution to crime. "And if the...object of your attention isn't interested?"

"Then he's probably lying. Because, no offense, Ben, but you seemed pretty interested in something when I first showed up here. And then you got all freaked out, and it's been like pulling teeth ever since." Steve stood up and began pacing the room. It was four steps in each direction. Watching his rapid gestures, Benton pondered whether he might be said to have a 'type.'

Benton pulled on the henley. "It's not appropriate."

"That's a bunch of crap. We fucked in the storeroom at your first detachment." Steve smiled, presumably at the fond memory. "And if you sleep here, then it's not just an office, is it?"

Sitting in the chair that Steve had vacated, Benton pulled off his damp socks and threw them across the room. Both landed in the hamper. "It's not the place, it's the situation."

Steve balled up a piece of paper and threw it at Benton's head. "The astral projection thing? Because if it makes you feel better, we can say 'spirit walk' or pretend I'm a figment of your imagination."

"I suspect that wouldn't work. You have an alarming tendency to ignore me, which doesn't support the idea that I've conjured you from my own subconscious." His jeans were under the cot. Really, Steve had no concept of personal possessions. There was no reason to make a mess.

Steve ticked off a list on his fingers. "Me, Dief, your dad. Maybe your subconscious just doesn't agree with you. Maybe it thinks you're sexually repressed."

Benton straightened. It wasn't as if he hadn't considered the possibility. The man--the vision--whatever he was, he really was insufferable. "Oh, thanks very much. With advice like that, I'm not surprised the road to enlightenment is a problem for you. You're quite irritating."

Steve laughed. "See? Knew you were under that buttoned-up Mountie somewhere. Welcome back."

Benton glared and turned his back to pull his jeans on. Steve whistled low, but when Benton spun to confront him, he was looking out the window. "I haven't gone anywhere and you know it. I've just matured, which is more than I can say for you."

"You've turned into an uptight pain in the ass, more like. With a hard-on for his partner. Who isn't as straight as you think he is, by the way." Smug. There was no better word for it.

Benton refrained from pointing out that a man whose closest personal relationship was with someone hundreds of miles away in another time zone and an entirely different country was in no position to cast aspersions. "I have not. And I don't. And it's none of my business how straight he is. Ray deserves his privacy, and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate your interference." He stepped into his hiking boots and pulled his coat from its hook beside the door. When Dief shifted to join him, Benton motioned him down.

Steve dropped onto the cot and reached down to rub Diefenbaker behind the ears. "Whatever you say. But I'm telling you, he's not straight. Nobody who's straight does that sort of thing in the back of that kind of bar."

Benton stopped short. "What?"

Diefenbaker growled and Steve pulled his hand back. "You heard me. Ever wonder what he gets up to while you're back here being noble and self-sacrificing?"

Yes. "No. It's not my concern." It wasn't. Ray was an adult. He could do whatever he wanted to. "He's free to see whomever he pleases."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Right. That's why you look like somebody spit on your pemmican. He's at that place on Belmont, by the way. The one with the dancers."

"So? I'm taking Dief for a run. I'll see you in an hour." Benton turned and walked out of the room.

"Right. Have fun with that." Benton ignored the sarcasm in Steve's response and opened the front door. He was about to pull it shut when Steve's voice called out one last comment. "Hey, Ben? You might want to take Dief with you. It's a pretty rough neighborhood." Benton most definitely did not slam the door behind him.

Standing on the front steps, he realized that he'd left his hat behind. He refused to go back for it and give Steve the satisfaction of knowing he was distracted.

***

The bar in question was seedy at best. And a health hazard, with sticky floors and tables that hadn't been washed in what was surely an excessive period of time. It was also crowded with men, most of whom were watching the stage and an individual who wore a kilt and an alarming number of safety pins. He couldn't quite understand the lyrics over the screaming of the rest of the band, but they seemed to have something to do with someone called "The Man" and what he'd done to oppress the singer and his compatriots.

He didn't see Ray, but that was no indication that Steve was correct in his assessment. Perhaps Ray had gone home. Alone. After coming to the bar purely for his own musical enjoyment.

Benton sighed. Even he didn't believe that rationalization. As he turned to leave, he caught sight of a familiar haircut moving through the crowd to the back of the bar. Intending only to greet Ray and then go home, Benton set down his glass of water and moved toward him. He was about to call out when he noticed that Ray was being followed by a rather sinister looking individual. He kept his distance, sure that Ray's own instincts would alert him to the possibility of danger.

Ray, however, continued to the back door of the bar. Just before he reached it he turned, dragged the strange man closer by his belt loop, and kissed him. Benton stopped. As Ray continued to demonstrate his physical agility, Benton turned and hurriedly left the building.

***

Steve was nowhere to be found when he returned to the Consulate. Benton was both grateful for the respite and oddly disappointed. He felt itchy and he suspected that any advice his father might give on the situation would be both useless and surrounded by criticism. Benton slumped into his chair, kicking his boots off under the desk.

Dief simply turned his back and curled up next to the door, irritated at being left behind.

Benton wondered when his life had become so small. Before he had a chance to wallow in his misery, Steve strolled into the room. "Hey, that Turnbull guy isn't quite all there, is he?" Catching sight of Benton, he shut the door and stepped behind the desk. "What happened to you?"

Benton slid lower. "Nothing. Everything is fine."

Steve grabbed the arms of the chair and leaned toward him. "You really went after Ray? I didn't think you'd have the guts."

Benton shook his head. "It was a horrible idea. He was--well, it doesn't matter. You were right." Steve cocked his head and reached out for Benton's hand.

"This is a bad time for I told you so, huh?" Benton nodded. "Well, look on the bright side. At least you know you've got a shot."

Benton suddenly lurched forward, grabbing the back of Steve's neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Steve lost his balance and fell into his lap.

Benton ignored Steve's muffled protests, sliding their lips together and pushing his tongue into Steve's mouth. After a few minutes, Steve pushed away, gasping. He held Benton back, staring at him in confusion. "You sure you want to do this?" Benton took hold of Steve's other hand, bringing it to his lips and sucking the thumb into his mouth. "Okay, then. Sex it is. On the bed, though. That chair doesn't look too sturdy."

Benton didn't answer, but he pushed up from the chair and backed Steve up against the wall. Leaning his elbows on either side of Steve's head, Benton grabbed him by the hair and held him still, licking his way up his neck and biting along his jawline. Steve moaned and tried to jerk away. "No, Ben, seriously, this is not a--god, you never got over that licking thing, did you--this is not the way to do it. Trust me on this."

Ben kissed him again, harder. Steve grunted, but returned the kiss, biting at Benton's lip and sliding his his hands upward. Benton felt them on his chest, pulling him closer--no. They were pushing. Pushing him away, which wasn't quite what he had in mind. He backed away, opening his mouth to apologize.

Steve stopped him, unwrapping one hand from Benton's shirtfront and resting it over his mouth. "No, it's fine. But not up against the wall. Not in a chair. Not in the back of a storeroom, and not in somebody's borrowed cabin. You've got a bed, Ben. It's a lousy bed, and at some point we're going to talk about why you sleep in your damn office, but it's a bed." He pushed Benton backwards until his knees hit the edge of the cot. "I do not want to fuck you up against a wall. It's not healthy." Steve pulled his hand away from Benton's mouth, but he didn't stop talking. "Eventually you're going to have to take somebody home with you, even if it's not me. Now sit down." Steve took him by the shoulders and shoved. Benton fell backwards with a surprised grunt. Steve kept pushing until Benton was flat on his back and blinking up at him. Steve grinned and began unbuttoning Benton's shirt. "Better. Now where were we?"

That didn't seem like the sort of question that required an answer, so Benton responded by arching against Steve's hand and reaching up for his belt. Steve batted his arm away. "Nope. I've got plans." He unbuttoned and unzipped Benton's jeans, grinning when Benton couldn't hold back a moan. Steve reached into Benton's boxers and ran a finger along his erection. Grinning at the way Benton twitched at his touch, Steve pulled his hand out and dragged the opened jeans down along with the boxers. Benton hissed and grabbed the edges of the cot.

Steve settled himself onto his knees between Benton's legs. Benton watched as he slowly leaned down, hesitating with his mouth only inches from Benton's groin. He felt cool air across the head of his penis as Steve looked up, a question in his eyes. Benton nodded, and Steve wrapped his fingers around the base. They were longer than Benton's, thinner, and felt entirely different from his solitary activities.

Benton shuddered and gasped. It had been far too long, and he barely restrained himself from exploding instantly as Steve took him into his mouth. Closing his eyes at the sensation, he restrained himself and gripped the blanket more tightly. Steve wasted no time, quickly setting up a rhythm that Benton found himself following helplessly.

Steve grabbed his hips, holding them to the bed as he sucked Benton deeper into his mouth. Benton didn't even notice when one hand lifted from his hip, but he opened his mouth to Steve's finger and ran his tongue along it, moaning as Steve pulled his hand away. Benton bit his lip, trying to prevent his gasps as Steve leaned his elbow against Benton's hip and gripped him hard.

Just as he felt himself start to regain some control, a spit-slick finger slid back and into him. Benton came with a groan, shaking and twisting down onto Steve's hand. He gasped, trying to catch his breath. Steve drew back, rubbing his hands along Benton's thighs before climbing off the cot.

When Benton opened his eyes, prepared to reciprocate, Steve was gone. Suddenly he felt tired.

Benton kicked off his jeans and turned over, determined to at least get a decent night's sleep.

Steve poked him in the shoulder a few minutes later. "You're an idiot."

Benton rolled over to look at him. Steve stood over the cot, a smile on his face. Benton assumed that meant he wasn't upset by the rather one-sided results of their encounter. "I often suspect that. My ignorance of the mechanics of astral projection, for instance, is enormous."

"I'm talking about the whole Ray issue."

Benton shook his head. The concept of lifetime friendships obviously didn't consider the annoying habits of people who simply refused to go away. "There isn't a Ray issue. He's chosen someone else. The fact that I share a gender with that individual is entirely irrelevant."

Steve yawned. "Oh, I completely believe you."

Benton stretched his arm over his face. "Shut up."

Steve ignored his attempts to end the conversation. "Look, why don't you just talk to him? It can't hurt anything. And you might find out that there's a reason for it."

"I know there's a reason for it. I'm not entirely ignorant of the existence of sexual attraction. I would think you'd have noticed that."

Steve smacked him on the chest, which was surprisingly painful. "Yes you are. Maybe he was on a case."

"If he was, I would know about it."

"You sure about that? He never takes any cases without you? Doesn't go see the occasional informant without you? Doesn't try to hide the nastier bits of his job from you, because you walk around all pristine and holier-than-thou and Canadian?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Because _I_ know it's all an act, but I've known you a while. I bet he's not that good a detective. Or maybe he was just horny, and didn't think he could have what he really wanted."

Benton wasn't sure what to say to that.


End file.
